Be Mine
by WafflesnRizzles
Summary: It's the annual day of love and commercialism, and our favorite duo find themselves thrown together by a snowstorm and circumstance. A little bit of angst and a lot a bit of fluff. Rizzles all the way.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, all! A bit of a late Valentine's Day fic. This one is definitely 100% finished, and I will be posting it daily for the next three days. I know I have a terrible track record for finishing fics, so I told myself I wasn't allowed to post this until it was totally complete. I hope you enjoy it! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the show, etc. etc. **

Jane shifted uncomfortably on her couch, growling slightly to herself. Remote in hand, she pressed the up button, quickly cycling through her lowest-grade satellite TV package.

"Jo!" Jane whined. The little scruffy bundle next to her raised an ear in answer. "You're my valentine this year. Woo me."

The little dog huffed a bit and resumed sleeping. Her short breaths came quickly as dog breathing was wont to do, but soon they had settled into a steady rhythm. Man's best friend her ass.

Jane glanced at the clock, noting that it was barely 6 p.m. She sighed heavily again. Why did Valentine's Day have to fall on a weekend? If it were during the week she could at least have stayed at the office catching up on the precipitous mountain of paperwork threatening to completely engulf her desk. Or she could have asked Frankie and Korsak…maybe even Nina… out for a drink at the Robber.

Did Nina even have a boyfriend? Jane really needed to make more of an effort with the lady.

Maura, of course, had Jack to spend this lovely annual occasion with. Not that Jane particularly desired a man to take her out to an expensive restaurant and bring her roses that didn't smell like anything and chocolates that tasted like chemicals. She fucking hated the expectations that the holiday invoked. She would have to dress up and make an effort to look pretty. He would have to spend an egregious amount of money wining and dining her. And then they would be expected to have really great sex.

"Ughhhh!" Jane whined, dramatically flopping backwards onto the couch with her arms extended. She didn't want all that movie shit or anything. She just wanted not to be reminded she should be doing all of those things. And maybe someone to not do all of those things with.

Jane looked at the clock, which told her it was now 6:30. Maura should be getting to the restaurant right about now. She probably dressed in red, maybe even in that red dress she showed Jane last week. The one that was all skin tight and drapey at the same time so that it accentuated all of her curves while still looking impeccably classy. It was a fucking dream of a dress.

Jane's attention was drawn to the screen, which showed a woman wearing an uncomfortably tight neon pink and black dress gesturing to something behind her. Ah, the weather channel. Jane turned the volume up.

"Boston will likely be seeing a foot of snow tonight. We already have about an inch on the ground, covering the frozen rain we all saw last night. So be careful out there, Valentine's Day revelers—we might be getting fresh snow, but it is going to be slick underneath!"

Jane turned the volume back down again, thinking of Maura. She hoped they took Jack's car, a sensible jeep, rather than Maura's completely impractical green machine. Who buys a car that's completely useless four months out of the year? Jane sighed again, pulling out her phone and ignoring the part of her mind telling her not to intrude on her best friend's date. She opted for a text, the more subtle method of communication: **Roads will be icy. Be careful tonight. **

The response back was immediate: **Oops**.

Jane's eyebrows furrowed as she held her phone in her hand, contemplating the one word answer. Oops? Did Maura get into an accident? Instantly Jane's fingers were dialing her best friend's number.

"Maur, are you okay?" Jane asked quickly when the blonde answered on the first ring. Her finger was nervously twisting a lock of dark curly hair and her foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

"Yes. But I seem to have slid down an embankment. Any chance you can lend me a hand?" The tone was offhanded and casual, completely not indicative of a woman who just crashed her beloved car.

"Of course, Maur. I'll be right there," Jane paused, rising from her couch to run into her bedroom, where she pulled on a pair jeans and a sweater. "Where is there, exactly?"

"Dudley and Cottage," Maura replied meekly.

Jane paused, left arm in her poofy red coat and right arm hanging limply by her side. If she weren't already holding the phone between her shoulder and ear, Jane would have contemplatively cocked her head to one side.

"That's like, three blocks away," Jane stated. She continued putting her right arm through the sleeve of her coat and set to pulling on her snowproof boots. "Wait…where's Jack?"

"He had to cancel on me tonight. I was driving to your apartment to see if you wanted to spend the night together."

Jane visibly cringed at the M.E.'s word choice. Sometimes the blonde could be so mature to a fault. Immature implications such as the ones currently flowing through Jane's mind never even occurred to the impeccable M.E.

"Yeah, Maur. You know I always love hanging out with you. No, Jo. You can't come. Mama just got her car cleaned." Maura heard the distinctive noise of Jo's claws scraping excitedly against the wood as she danced excitedly at Jane's feet.

"Actually, Jane. It would be best if you walked. The roads are far too icy for you to attempt driving. Would you…mind bringing me an extra pair of snow boots? I seem to have dressed inappropriately for the weather, which is why I have been sitting in my car for so long."

Jane smirked, imagining Maura in that smoking red dress and a pair of impossibly high stiletto heels trying to clamber up a snowy embankment. Heh.

Who was she kidding? Maura was probably freezing and uncomfortable and here Jane was making fun of her. The guilt settled in after that thought. Jane grabbed an extra pair of boots, an extra jacket and two of those Grabber hand warmers. She peeled off the wrappers and put them in the pockets of the extra coat so they would be perfectly warm by the time Maura slid her hands in them.

"Be good, Jo. Mama will be back in a few minutes with Maura." Jane said mostly to her dog, knowing full well that Maura could hear everything she was saying. "Yes, I know I'm walking now. Yes, I know you're perfectly capable of walking, too. Maura, tell Jo that this is a human-only trip!" Jane exclaimed exasperatedly, inching past the bounding terrier to slip through the front door.

Successful, she closed the door, locked it and immediately bolted down her apartment building steps and into the falling snow. Her boots crunched rhythmically against the snow as she jogged to her beleaguered friend.

"Maur, I'm gonna hang up. I'll be there in, like, two seconds."

"I hardly think that's accurate, Jane. I estimate a minute at least. I'm on the northwest corner."

Meaning Maura had been turning left towards Jane's apartment and likely had trouble on the turn. That was a pretty steep embankment, now that Jane thought about it…

The snow was falling thickly, quickly coating Jane's eyelashes and melting on the exposed skin of her face as she jogged. The cold, biting air ripped through her lungs, stealing away breaths that normally would fall evenly from such light exertion. Jane spotted the taillights of Maura's Prius glowing faintly from under a sizable layer of snow.

"Maur!" Jane shouted, skidding down the embankment. Her raspy, low voice tore through the eerily silent snowstorm and made Jane wish she had just stayed quiet. There always was something so calm about snow. The way it moved and fell in silence; the way nothing else stirred, no other noise was made. It was too pristine to be disturbed, like a sleeping baby.

It also caused a lot of property damage. Maura's car had rolled slowly enough into the ditch, which, owing to a number of days of sleet and rain, had at least a foot of frozen water on which to heavily impact the front bumper of a car. Through the layer of snow on the car, Jane could already see the accordioned mess of metal that was the hood of Maura's car. This was no small accident.

Jane wiped the snow off the driver's side window and knocked once. The airbag was deployed, and Jane could just see the faint outline of Maura reclined back in the driver's seat. Maura waved a hand that beckoned Jane to open the door.

"Hey, Maur," Jane breathed out, instantly sucking the air back in when she saw the angry red mark on the side of the M.E.'s cheek. "Is everything okay?" Jane quickly scanned the rest of the M.E.'s body, looking for any overt sign of injury. Eying the deployed airbag, Jane quickly deduced that it was the cause of the cheek welt.

The M.E.'s slim wrist found the electric seat lever and slowly raised her seat, "Yes. No injuries other than multiple contusions caused by the airbag deployment."

"ContusionS?" Jane asked, emphasizing the "s."

"Yes. I believe I have one on my left cheek and multiple on my mammary glands." Maura stated, pointedly looking down at her ample cleavage.

Jane's gaze bounced down there, too. Sure enough, the usually creamy skin was tinged bright red. It almost matched the color of her dress, which, Jane mused, was happily the one she had imagined Maura would be wearing. It had a swoopy neckline, just low enough so that Jane had a tantalizing view of the rounded tops of Maura's…mammary glands.

Jane's gaze bounced back up again. "I, uh, here's the boots," Jane said, awkwardly shoving them into Maura's lap. She held Maura's spindly heels as she watched the M.E. slide her delicate feet into Jane's very practical snow boots. They were far too big for her, and their worn tanned leather clashed ridiculously with the M.E.'s classy red getup.

Jane marveled vaguely at how the two of them managed to be such good friends. The physical manifestation of their differences was so jarring it was comical. Yet somehow, the two of them balanced each other out. The thought made the corner of Jane's mouth tick up happily.

She held up the parka as Maura stood up stiffly in the heavy boots. Maura shrugged it on over her thin, chic black designer coat. She smiled warmly in gratitude up at Jane as her hands slid inside the warm pockets. Jane shrugged and mumbled some sort of excuse for the gesture. She had them lying around and knew it was really cold outside. She figured Maura had been there awhile. How long had Maura been waiting outside, anyway?

"It has been about a half hour at this point. I called 911 but it seems that they had their own trouble getting here. Wait a second…" Maura said, stopping Jane in her tracks. The lanky brunette was already trying to scramble up the incline, causing a small avalanche of snow to tumble toward the small Prius.

Maura opened the back door of her car to reveal a small duffel bag, which she slung casually over her shoulder.

"Do you have an emergency bag in your backseat?" Jane asked, equal parts amused and exasperated at her friend's preparedness. She motioned for the blonde to wait while she clambered up the steep incline; she then extended her hand down for the M.E. to take while she made the slippery trip upwards.

As the two righted themselves, neither was quick to unclench their hands. Maura slipped her ungloved hand and Jane's gloved hand inside the warm pocket. It was a tight fit, but comfortable enough for both of them.

"Here do you want my…" Jane said, pulling the glove off her right hand when she realized Maura was lacking gloves. Maura shook her head no, smiling at the gesture.

She pulled Jane's hand back into her warm pocket, "Don't want you catching cold either, Detective."

Was that a flirty tone Jane was detecting? It sounded _distinctly_ flirty. Not any flirtier than the doctor's usual banter...Jane supposed when she thought further on it. But Jane wasn't her type anyway so why did it matter?

The two crunched down the street together, following the earlier tracks Jane had already made. The snow was still falling, but slower and in lighter, swirling rivulets. They landed delicately in the M.E.'s blonde locks and coated her perfect eyebrows and lashes. In her red dress and elegant coat she looked comical covered with a worn puffy parka and large, equally worn work boots. She tromped in them—something Jane was sure Maura Isles had never done in her life. It brought a smile to her face like nothing else.

There she was, again falling down that rabbit hole labeled 'Maura Isles.' Sometimes Jane could feel herself falling and observe herself falling at the same time…like half of her was clumsy and helpless and the other half of her was raising its eyebrows and judging.

"It's beautiful out here," Maura breathed after they had walked a few paces in silence. The red brick of the buildings was lined heavily with snow that resembled the piped white icing on gingerbread houses. The thick flakes swirled down, grabbing futilely onto the already laden barren branches of trees that lined the quiet street. Lights burned brightly in almost every window, lighting the pair's way through the grey night.

It was the kind of night that would go perfectly in some cheesy romance movie, where the guy would walk the girl to her door and they would shelter on the stoop of her building, staring adoringly at one another, until one of them—maybe both of them—moved in to close the gap between them. They would passionately kiss with swirling snow and loud swelling music and everything would be all gooey and perfect.

Suddenly Jane's hand felt heavy and claustrophobic in the M.E.'s pocket.

"Is that what you were doin when you crashed your little pansy ass car?" Jane asked, patented Jane Rizzoli smirk on her face. She nudged the blonde a little with her elbow to jolt her out of her reverie. She smoothly slid her hand out of her best friend's pocket, stretching her arms behind her nonchalantly.

"Doing what?" Maura asked, adopting a slightly defensive tone.

"Daydreaming. Were you thinking about Mr. Handsome Professor man?" Jane teased. She paused, realization dawning on her. "Did the bastard stand you up?" Jane suddenly felt much more serious, bristling in anger at the thought of that smirking, slick Ivory Tower bastard hurting her best friend.

"No, he called me earlier today telling me that his ex-wife surprised him with Allie. It seems Josephine had a date of her own tonight," Maura said slightly bitterly. "But no matter! Because I get to spend tonight with you." She smiled hopefully up at the brunette, who couldn't help but smile back.

Yep. Rabbit hole. Here she was, badass Detective Jane Rizzoli, smiling like an idiot because she got to play second fiddle to Jackass.

Once in Jane's apartment, Maura whipped out two bottles of red wine, a host of expensive chocolates and multiple Tupperware containers filled with various foods. She moved effortlessly through Jane's kitchen, knowing precisely the location where every haphazardly thrown item resided. She placed things on plates, in the oven and in the refrigerator, occasionally stopping to sip her glass of wine or to smile happily at her best friend.

"For someone who just crashed her Prius and got stood up, you seem pretty okay…did you do some yoga or something in your car while you were down there?" Jane asked, curious at her friend's happy demeanor. She took an experimental sip of the red liquid Maura had placed in front of her. It was fragrant and floral-y without being too thick and heavy in her mouth like most red wines were.

Hm. Not bad.

"Here," Maura said, placing a plate in front of her. "Sip the wine again once you've tried this. It tastes absolutely exquisite with food."

In front of her was a mushy brown rectangle topped with squishy purple stuff. Placed delicately on the side were small oblong croutons. "Blech!" Jane exclaimed, not trying very hard to keep the look of pure disgust off her face. "What did you do? Follow Jo Friday around on a walk for that gem?"

Maura sighed, composing herself for one of her many Jane lectures. "No, Jane. That is _foie gras_, a well-known delicacy in French cuisine. It is known to be very buttery and savory, which is why I paired it with fig preserves and a thick crouton." She sighed again, noting her speech had done nothing to wipe the look of horror on her friend's face. "This particular dish is served at upscale restaurants as a palate opener. It has a very delightful balance of savory, sweet, smooth and rough."

Ever the immature adolescent boy, Jane couldn't help but apply those words to a…less clothed scenario that made her mouth go dry.

She blamed it on the wine. All three sips of it.

Still noting the apprehension lining Jane's face, Maura placed her hands obstinately on her hips. "You don't get the main course until you try at least one bite," Maura paused for effect. "The main course is _Entrecôte_, known most commonly here in America as _rib eye steak_." She raised her eyebrows suggestively, knowing full well that Jane had already caved at the word 'steak.'

She smiled brightly as she watched the grumpy brunette slice through the light brown mousse with the crouton and pop the entire thing in her mouth. She marveled in the reactions that fleeted across her friend's face. A brief moment of disgust, highlighted by narrowed eyes and pinched, thin lips…a momentary flick of surprise, during which one of the brunette's thick eyebrows raised and the muscles around her lips slackened…and then the features hardened, solidifying into the familiar mask of Rizzoli stubbornness.

"Well, it didn't kill me," Jane said, shrugging her shoulders and picking up the wine glass. She took a generous swig, and the blonde M.E. felt time stop just enough for her to watch the liquid make its way down her long, delicate throat.

"Good with food?" Maura asked expectantly.

Jane shrugged again, "Yeah."

Too determined to be disappointed, Maura was nonetheless happy to discover Jane sneaking another few bites of _foie gras_ behind her back as she pulled a cast iron skillet from Jane's oven and places it on the front left burner.

_I own one of those things? _Jane wondered, staring at the skillet. Hm. She popped another French crouton smeared with brown stuff in her mouth contemplatively. This Valentine's Day was shaping up nicely after all. Her gaze made its way from pan to perfectly manicured M.E., whose heels, dress and food choice all imported more gravitas than Jane's disheveled hair and pajamas.

"Fuck," Jane said softly. She slid from her seat and called over her shoulder, "I'll be right back, Maur."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I have absolutely no patience. I've been counting down the minutes since I posted the first chapter until I can post this next one. Here's chapter 2 of 3 for you guys! Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! **

Jane stood fidgeting in front of the mirror in her bedroom. The black dress she had on Maura had seen a million times before, diluting its importance. She really should suck it up and take Maura up on her shopping offers. The dress did well enough for first dates, but as Jane never seemed to get past those, multiple dresses were never really necessary.

"Jane? Dinner is ready!" Maura called from the kitchen.

She sighed, throwing on her best pair of heels and clomping down her short hallway to the kitchen. She came into her joint living room/kitchen area to find her best friend setting up their food at the coffee table, Maples Leafs hockey game already flashing on the television screen.

Maura looked up curiously at Jane's outfit, "You changed."

_Damn. Way to make this awkward_, Jane internally cursed to herself.

"Yeah, uh, I figured since you looked all nice for me, I shouldn't look all _sciatto_ myself."

_Fuck. "For me," Jane? Really? She dressed like that for her boyfriend. Idiot. _

Maura quirked an eyebrow too distracted by the thought of Jane speaking Italian to notice Jane's other words, "How much Italian do you know exactly?"

"_Parlo abbastanza italiana di funzionare_." Jane gravitated toward the couch, guided by the tantalizing smell of steak. She was so fixated upon it, she completely missed that her best friend was currently worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

The two sat down on Jane's well-loved couch. In front of Jane was a plate with steak, asparagus and sweet potato fries. "Damn, Maur, this all looks great!"

The steak came coupled with a side of white creamy sauce sprinkled with something green, and the asparagus were black on one side just like Jane liked it. The Maple Leafs were already winning 1-0 and…Jesus Christ could this get any more perfect?

It was like Maura was personally digging that rabbit hole for her or something.

_You're not my type_.

Fuck.

Jane stabbed into the steak with a bit more vigor than necessary, causing the plate to rattle loudly against the glass of her coffee table. Jane flinched slightly at the noise she had made, but resolutely picked up her knife and started sawing at the bloody hunk of meat.

"Shit, Maur. Sure I'm not going to die of pry-ee-ons or something?" Jane teased, shoving a forkful of the meat into her mouth. Maura always chastised Jane for liking her meat undercooked—it was unsafe or something.

"No, I'm not certain. But the chances of it occurring just this once are relatively slim…" Maura trailed off, exhaling loudly.

Aww, look. She's trying not to lecture me.

"Go on, Maur. Let it out. I know you'll probably explode if you don't."

"The FDA estimates that there are about 48 million cases of foodborne illness annually. Undercooked meat is the cause of nine of the sixteen different foodborne illnesses they have identified. _Bacillius cereus_, _clostridum perfringens_…"

Jane tuned her out, having been on the receiving end of this lecture more times than she could count. She happily continued eating her live cow, occasionally waving a forkful of the steak in the air in unison with the emphasized parts of the M.E.'s diatribe.

Midway through her rant (Jane knew because Maura had come to _salmonella_ and its symptoms), Jane cut a delicate square out of the M.E.'s untouched steak and held it to the blonde's lips. Automatically, the perfect lips opened to accept the food, though hazel eyes flashed in annoyance at the interruption.

"Now chew and swallow, Maur. Your food's getting cold," Jane nodded pointedly at her nearly empty plate. The blonde did as she was told, finishing her rant between bites of asparagus, steak and sweet potato.

"God, Maur. This has been the best Valentine's Day _ever_," Jane said, stretching back contentedly against the couch. "You know, besides the you crashing your car and all and getting all banged up."

"Well it's not over yet," Maura said flirtatiously, causing Jane's heart to skip a few beats.

What else did her best friend have planned? Jane's mind instantly jumped to activities best done _au naturel_, thoughts that instantly prompted the usual mantra of: "She's your best friend. Best friends don't think of each other that way. You're not her type anyway."

But she couldn't help the words that tumbled out of her mouth next, "Is this the part where you show me your new lingerie?"

The tone was joking, her words masked in a cloak of humor. If it was a joke, she didn't mean it, right?

"Better. Close your eyes and open your mouth," Maura commanded, her voice coming from somewhere right over Jane's left shoulder. The words came too quickly for Jane to rationalize them. She felt her body shudder and her core clench as she did what she was told.

"Mmm," Jane moaned as her taste buds were assaulted with a delicious triad of flavors.

"What is it?" Maura demanded.

Jane let the flavors settle in her mouth before swallowing the bite allocated to her. "I don't know…I might need another bite or ten to figure it out."

She heard her best friend sigh somewhere right in front of her—she even felt the small puff of breath hit her face. It smelled like Maura, soft and sweet with a slight bit of earthy…something. It was something Jane lived for, those little moments when she was allowed to bask in Maura's raw scent, unmarred by perfume or oils or lotions or any of the other smelly stuff Maura used on a daily basis.

_Focus, Jane_. Okay. Fine. It was some sort of chocolate brownie with a raspberry syrup and whipped cream. "Chocolate brownie, raspberry reduction and homemade whipped cream from Bella." She opened her eyes to find deep sage eyes peering intently at her.

"How did you know it was from Bella?" Maura asked, intrigued.

"I dunno. It just tastes different. Plus, it's been about a year since you last got milk from that farm co-op thing because I remember last year you made that crème frachey stuff with strawberries for me. And you said something about a year for cows to have another baby and give milk."

Maura nodded her head, thoroughly impressed with her friend's deductive reasoning skills and memory.

"You've earned the rest of this."

Jane dug in, savoring the chocolatey, fruity, creamy goodness she managed to get in every bite. "Mmmhmm. Maur, you are the best. I've always wanted a wife!" she said exclaimed, placing her empty plate and fork down on the coffee table before accepting a mug of black coffee from her best friend.

Jane looked knowingly over at Maura, knowing that her friend would understand her reference to the long-gone Casey.

God, she was happy. So _fucking_ happy. This was by far the best Valentine's Day she had ever had. The Maple Leafs had won handily 3-0, she only had had to wear heels for, like, 30 seconds and wasn't expected to wear sexy lingerie. That isn't to say that Jane hadn't done it anyway. In fact, she had put on her only set: a simple lacy black bra and matching lacy brief things. It wasn't that Jane was expecting anything to happen or anything. It just…felt appropriate for some reason. Yeah, appropriate.

She also was spending this snowy night with her best friend in the entire world. The one person she always wanted to spend time with. The one person with whom every minute was just _better_, just because she was there.

Finishing up her coffee, Jane once again leaned back against her couch with a contented sigh. She peeked at the blonde beside her. Maura was sitting primly with her usual perfect posture, still taking delicate bites of her chocolate cake in between sips of coffee.

"Hey, you. You did all this for me, now it's your turn," Jane said, handing Maura the remote with the deference of someone handing over a sword in a medieval movie. "Choose anything you want. Even," Jane said with mock gravitas, "something that isn't Amazon Prime."

"I am honored," Maura said with a small smile. She took the remote delicately, the tips of her fingers brushing Jane's palm, sending a small ripple of shivers through the brunette. It seriously wigged Jane out how much that small touch affected her. This was not normal. It was not okay.

Except it was normal, because it happened almost every time they were around one another. Little touches here and there, an embrace after a particularly hard day at work, a kiss on the forehead or on the cheek.

And it was okay, because it made Jane feel so _good_. Not just in the taboo sexual way, because that was definitely there. But also in the "I feel safe way." In the "I feel completely at home" way. Maybe definitely in the "I want to spend the rest of my life right here with you," way.

Jane got up, retrieved the ice pack that Maura had left on the kitchen counter and returned to the couch. She handed the ice pack wordlessly to her friend and sat back down.

"Hey, give me those feet of yours," Jane said, tugging gently on one of the legs that was curled up beneath the ME. She smiled and obliged, moving her delicate back to the arm of the couch and stretching out her legs to rest on Jane's lap. Jane started with the blonde's right foot, gently pressing all of the spots she already knew held most of the tension.

She wasn't as good at it as Maura was, but she had learned from experience with the M.E. exactly where all of the tension points were and how to press them just right.

"Mmph," the ME practically moaned. "That feels wonderful. I had no idea I was holding so much tension there."

"Yeah, a car wreck and heels will do that to ya," Jane muttered.

Jane looked up, hearing the opening of some sort of movie playing.

Is this…?

It was.

"When Harry Met Sally? Really, Maur? You're not going to put on something more…educational?"

"It seemed appropriate for today's societal celebration of amorous relationships."

Jane smiled. She couldn't help it, really. Maura was such a cute dork.

"Have you seen this before?" Jane enquired of the blonde.

"No, but I have heard it referred to on numerous occasions. 'Men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way," she quoted. "An interesting theory, really, but in my experience wholly inaccurate."

Jane sat in silence, knowing full well Maura would continue talking.

"For example with you. I find you extremely attractive, but we are still able to be friends."

_Hol-y fuck_.

Jane was pretty sure her heart stopped. Her hands certainly did, at least. They dropped like lightening from Maura's foot and she could feel herself, in some weird out-of-body way, inhale sharply.

Was this actually happening?

_Calm down, Jane. She's your best friend. She's straight. And you're not her type. She's just being Maura, probably stating some 'objective' fact or something. _

"Well, I am gorgeous, my friend," Jane said flippantly, tossing her wild mane of hair to the side like they do in shampoo commercials and batting her eyelashes over-dramatically.

When in doubt, always resort to humor.

_Annnd, tension averted_.

Jane felt herself relax a bit as she watched Harry and Sally bickering on their car ride to New York. She was reminded of the forced road trip Maura and she had taken some time ago. Had Jane not had the best friends and mother a woman could ask for, she likely would have lost her best friend for good.

Jane felt Maura shift and pull her legs back under her again. She missed the contact. Maura was sitting a couch cushion away from Jane, but it could have been light-years.

_Yeah, I said it. Light-years. Maura has corrected me one too many times, I guess. "Light years measure distance, not time, Jane."_

Jane watched Jo jump on the couch and settle closer to Maura's side of things. She narrowed her eyes at the little ratty beast, feeling slightly betrayed. Whatever. Jane was pretty sure Bass likes her better than Maura because she sneaks him her salad when Maura's not looking.

Jane focused back on the movie. Ah, fuck. The orgasm scene. Suddenly Jane was very glad Maura was on the opposite end of the couch and not under the same snuggly throw.

"Did you know that only twenty-five percent of women achieve orgasm through vaginal penetration?" Maura asked her.

Jane sort of wanted to die. Here we go…

"No, but I'm definitely one of the ninety-nine percent over here."

"I believe you meant seventy-five percent, Jane."

"That was a reference to…oh, never mind."

"Have you ever "faked it," Jane?"

"Yeah, but not with you, baby," Jane said in the most ridiculous voice she could muster.

When in doubt, always resort to humor.

Jane could see Maura roll her eyes from the corners of her own.

"I wish I could get a straight answer from you sometimes," Maura said with a hint of irritation.

"I'm not a straight kinda girl," Jane quipped back.

_Ah, fuck. Did **not** mean it like that. I meant I'm, uh, a twisted sort of girl? No. That doesn't work either._

Sigh. And here we go again.

"I was under the impression that you were heterosexual."

"I am! It's just…" _Not when I'm around you_.

Maura may not have the ability to lie, but Jane's brain pathway things are primed and ready to go regarding that.

"It's just...I can't find the right guy, you know?" Jane asked rhetorically, and a little bit angrily. Of course she can't find the right guy, because she's found the right girl. But she's untouchable, so Jane reasons she'll continue on with the not-right dicks.

_Look at me, Pity Party of one. _

"Are you cold?" Jane ask, half paying attention to the awkward scene where Harry notices Sally at the airport.

Maura didn't look cold. In fact, she looked rather content on her side of the couch with _Jane's_ dog. But Jane selfishly wanted her closer, so she didn't wait for an answer before lifting up the left side of the throw.

Maura wordlessly slides next to Jane and somehow is still not touching any part of her. Jane stretches her long body, apparently to get out some nonexistent kinks, and in the process skooches marginally closer to her best friend so that they're touching all along the sides of their bodies.

The skirt of Maura's red dress has inched up to well above her mid-thigh, and Jane's is just a couple of inches closer to her knee than that. Their bare legs are touching. Skin to skin, just like their arms.

Jane wants Maura to lay her head on her shoulder and she wants to put her arm around Maura's back, but that would be going too far, right?

Jane is having the most perfect Valentine's Day of her life and for once she _wants_ to put out and for just a few monumental reasons she can't.

_That's some serious bullshit._

Somewhere during the Christmas tree scene Maura puts her head on Jane's shoulder and Jane can't help the smile that slowly spreads up on her face. She puts her arm over the blonde's shoulders like she wanted to an hour ago. It sort of slumps there for a bit _because I'm awkward like that_, but Jane gives her a little squeeze and she readjusts so that it's comfortable for the both of them.

_Maybe for this one night I'll just pretend that loving her is okay, and in the morning she can go back to Jack and I can go back to knowing that it's not okay and dealing with it._

Except it never works out that way, does it?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Guys, I'm so so so sorry I didn't post yesterday. I was freaking about about a new internship in DC I started today (which ended up going really well) and couldn't bring myself to do much of anything other than pace and quadruple-check bus schedules. Anyway, here's the last chapter! THANK YOU FOR ALL THE FAVS/FOLLOWS/REVIEWS! **

A little while later, I notice Maura isn't really laughing at anything anymore and I'm pretty sure she's asleep. I turn my head to the side and press my lips against her soft honey blonde locks because she's asleep and tonight I'm allowing myself to do things like this.

"Maura honey?" The endearment slips from my lips so naturally that I'm afraid it will happen again when we're out from under this weird blanket of snow and societal expectations.

"Hmmm?"

"It's time to go to bed," I say, turning off the television and slowly getting up. I guide her down the short hallway to my bedroom and start digging in my drawers for a set of pajamas for her. I watch her blink sleepily as I turn on the bedside lamp and hand her the faded BPD tee and boxer shorts she loves so much.

"Unzip me?"

Ah, the torturous unzipping ritual. Why did Maura always have to wear dresses that had zippers that ended right above the curve of her perfectly-formed ass? And why did she always have to ask _me_ to do it for her? I mean, when she's alone I'm sure she manages just fine. It's like she's being intentionally cruel.

I do it. I always do. Sometimes I think I want to refuse just to get the satisfaction of seeing her hop around like I do when I'm trying to reach the top part of a dress zipper.

She looks at me with her large hazel eyes that look more like topaz in the dim sidetable lamplight. And, surprise surprise, the temptation is always too much to say no to. It's a sick form of torture, having that vast expanse of creamy white skin bared under my fingertips and wholly untouchable.

But maybe this once she won't notice. So as I drag the zipper down with my left hand, I lightly ghost the fingertips of my right hand down the path of exposed skin. I want so badly to place a kiss on her sculpted neck, but that would wholly be going too far. Best friends _definitely_ don't kiss each other there.

She tilts her head to the left, baring her neck farther to me and arching her back into me as if reading my thoughts.

So much for getting away with it.

I bend my neck down, sliding my hands around her waist and hovering over her neck with my lips, parted and indecisive.

_She's with Jack, and you're not her type_.

My mind shoots back to some memories—just tiny wisps of memories—but sometimes that's enough. Your brain throws forward an image of something long past, and all of the strongest emotions hit you like they did then. Only now they've had time to mature and warp and clump together so that you're not even sure how things actually happened anymore…

_"Rizzoli, you're just a big fucking dyke!"_

_"I'd tell you to suck my dick, but I know you're not into that sort of thing, Rizzoli." _

_"Janie, I'm your brother. You can tell me if you're into girls, you know."_

_"Doc really has you pussy-whipped, huh, Rizzoli?" _

_"I think I know who wears the pants." _

My mind had bundled all of these experiences together so that they always hit me in sequence, one by one. Maura once told me it had something to do with primed neural pathways, essentially brain grooves that just etch in longer over time. This one has been groovin' since I was about 11.

But I want to love her just this once and… I lean my chin platonically against her shoulder and fake a smile I know she can't see anyway, "Thanks for a great night, Maur."

I extract myself and gather up last night's pajamas from their crumpled pile on my bed. I make sure not to turn around because I can hear the soft thud of Maura's dress against the wood floor. I, ever the prude, slide into the bathroom to change.

When I come back out I feel a little more like myself. My face is washed, my teeth are clean and my head feels like it finally has control of things again.

"I had a really great time tonight, Maur. I'm kinda really glad Jack got dumped with Allie at the last minute, although I know that probably blows for you," I say as I slide into my side of the bed. Yeah, we have sides of the bed. Whatever, deal with it.

"I did as well, Jane. I'm actually quite glad Jack had to cancel."

"Aw, don't say that," I said, not really knowing what to say myself.

I feel Maura scoot closer to me and tuck her head into the crevice between my arm and my boob. I move my arm around her and she snuggles in closer.

"Did you know that cuddling actually releases the same endorphins that sex does? It releases oxytocin and can release dopamine, both of which boost your immune system and create deeper social bonding," Maura said, her sleepy voice muffled a little bit in my arm. She burrows deeper into me, throwing an arm over my stomach and pressing herself as close as she possibly can to me.

I sigh contentedly, feeling like I have the entire world wrapped around me in a delicate little blonde package.

No, not delicate. That isn't the right word. Right now she's so soft and warm and innocent looking. It's easy to forget that she's easily the strongest woman I've ever met.

And who am I kidding? I love her. Fuck, do I love her.

The morning greets me brilliantly as the sun rays down through the downward slanting blinds in Jane's bedroom. It sends horizontal bars of light cascading down the wood floor and up the side of the bed onto me. I want to stretch and ready my body for the day, but it definitely has other plans. Namely, it wants to stay cradled in Jane's strong arms for eternity.

I look up and see Jane lying in the same position she was when I fell asleep the night before. Her back is resting against the black headboard, her raven locks masking her resting face as her chin slumps against her chest.

She'll be stiff this morning.

I feel guilt creep its way across my limbs. It settles deeply in the pit of my stomach as I realize that Jane must have fallen asleep like that because of me. She would never have moved me if she thought I was comfortable—I should have realized that.

I sigh lightly, remembering the almost that was last night. There were so many 'almost' moments. I could see it in her eyes, hear it in her breath, feel it in her movements…but something was still holding her back.

I should have told her that Jack knows. But how does one bring that up? Somehow, I know that my usual blunt way of putting things is not correct for this sort of situation.

_"Oh, by the way, Jane. Jack knows you're in love with me. He told me so after the first time he met you." _

My left arm tightens around her torso, as if somehow she was slipping away from me.

_"But the thing is, Jane, what he doesn't know is that it isn't unrequited. He doesn't know that he's just a placeholder, and quite a poor one at that. He is just something, you are my everything." _

I know I can never say these words because when it comes to Jane and her emotions, even I am always walking on eggshells. Experience has taught me that she fears that she feels too much, and vehemently tries to repress it. While I, on the other hand, usually struggle to feel anything at all.

Until Jane came along, that is. Before her, I was Dr. Death and Maura-the-bora. Before her, I was simply a trust-fund name or a title.

But now…now I am Maura (Maur, to her). I am a friend who goes out to drinks with her colleagues at the Dirty Robber. I am a family member who goes to Sunday Rizzoli dinners. I am finally even a daughter to my own mother, Constance.

How can I tell Jane that she is the cause of everything beautiful in my life?

My fingers slip underneath her tank and I almost release a noise at the hard muscles that greet me.

I know I'm in love with Jane. I have never denied it. It's been…well, it's been years, really. I should tell Jack the whole truth, but I know I won't. I am selfish—far too selfish— for that. He gives me the romantic and sexual intimacy I crave, the things Jane can't, or rather won't, give me.

I feel Jane stir beneath me and look up to see her angrily scrunching her face up like she always does in the morning. It's really quite adorable, and she opens her eyes to me smiling up at her.

I guess it was catching because now she's smiling down at me, too, and I feel her arms wrap around me and squeeze tightly.

"Good morning," I say brightly, loving this strangely happy morning Jane.

"I guess it's safe to say you haven't started coffee yet?" Jane asks me, her voice raspy with sleep. It rumbles in her chest and I feel it vibrate on the right side of my face that is pressed against her.

"Not yet, no."

"Well then, back to sleep it is!" Jane says, dramatically going limp and pretending to snore.

I sigh, matching her dramatic display. "I'll go start it," I say, not trying to hide the resignation in my voice. I am very reluctant to leave our current position. Jane's arms are still wrapped around me and my left hand is just under the hem of her white wifebeater shirt. I can just feel the rise of her _rectus_ _abdominis_, and it takes a significant amount of willpower to not admire it more openly.

It is definitely best to move.

I move to get up, Jane's lead arms further impeding my progress. "Jane!" I scold her, but I know she can hear the laughter in my voice. She obviously doesn't want me to get up, either, and it sends familiar bubbles of happiness throughout my chest.

"Ja-ane!" I shout as I try to get out from underneath the heavy arms, but as I struggle she only pulls me closer, leading to me falling directly on top of her with my back to her.

"Do you want your coffee or not?" I ask her, a bit indignant at this point. Most of me, though, is still effervescing with this new intimacy and I can't keep the smile out of my voice.

I feel her sweep my no doubt bedraggled hair to the side and feel her shift slightly behind me. My breath catches in my throat as I feel the soft exhale of Jane's own breathing against my neck once more. A tense moment passes.

God, I wish I could somehow know what she is thinking because she isn't moving…

And then she is. I feel the slightly rough lips softly press against the skin covering my _trapezius_. I exhale sharply, lifting my body up to meet more of her mouth. I feel my nerves reacting violently as she kisses a line slowly—deliberately—up my neck. My heart rate is increasing rapidly, my breathing with it. Wetness—God, I've never—

She slowly brings my earlobe into her mouth and begins suckling it. I hear a moan somewhere in the room and I'm rather certain it came from me.

She returns back to my neck, where she loses all delicacy. Her hands slide underneath my shirt and grip me with a thrillingly possessive fervor. My hands decide they must touch more of her, but the position we're in only allows for me to grip her strong thighs.

For now, they are contented.

The way her mouth is moving against my neck, I'm positive she is bursting a significant amount of blood vessels. Ah, more contusions to add to my growing collection.

"Jane that feels so—" I devolve into moans once more. I try to turn around to face her, but she holds me firmly in place.

"You are mine," Jane growls in my ear, somehow making my body react more violently than it ever had to a human voice.

I am not sure what happened between last night and this morning, because the Jane I knew last night was still unsure. I could almost physically see her suspended in that metaphysical state, between one reality and another, we call confliction. But yet…as my mind ruminates further I realize that this confliction is something I had never previously observed in my swarthy detective. She had been so sure, so adamant, in her platonic feelings toward me…and then last night and now…_this_.

My breathing is ever more ragged under the tide of her lips' ministrations. She let her lips once again lightly dance over my neck. Her hands gently stroked my stomach, circling, but not venturing any higher or lower as I willed them to do.

"I think the saying is," I mumble between her kisses. "Be mine?"

"Yes," Jane breathed, suddenly stopping her ministrations to my neck.

She allows me to turn around to face her. I'm on my knees, sitting back against my heels. I want to look in her dark, beautiful brown eyes but I can't stop my eyes from moving down to her delectable lips.

"Maur," Jane says warningly. "Mr. Ivory tower, remember?"

"Oh." Suddenly I can't look at her eyes or her lips, but when my gaze falls downward they're met with perfect washboard abdominal muscles barely hidden under a thin white tee shirt and I'm ready to die of sexual frustration.

"Do you find me attractive?" Jane asks me.

Yes. God, yes. I already told her that yesterday and I quickly reaffirm it.

"Do you enjoy spending time with me?"

I nod.

"Do you want to be in a relationship with me?"

I finally meet her eyes and proceed to nod very vigorously. I would normally dignify her questions with verbal answers, but as my throat is currently in a metaphorical knot, I opt for the nonverbal route.

She smiles, albeit, slightly sadly. She touches the right side of my neck where she marked me and says, "Well then, be mine."

"I never was anyone else's," I find myself saying. And I don't break out in hives, so we know it is true.

**Epilogue**

"So, wait. What did you mean by, '_you're not my type_?" Jane asks Maura. "Because experience would have it that I am _definitely_ your type."

Jane waggles her eyebrows suggestively, alluding to the previous three weeks of unimaginably explosive sex. Years of pent-up attraction will do that to people.

Maura snuggles closer to Jane's naked body. She knows she will never tire of this closeness, of this intimacy. She places a small peck on Jane's shoulder blade, feeling prickles of happiness when she feels Jane's warm shoulder press up to meet her kiss.

Maura chuckles a little before responding, "Emotionally unavailable is definitely not my type."

"Are you saying—" Jane flips over, hands outstretched, and proceeds to tickle torture the smaller blonde. "_I_ am emotionally unavailable?"

In between half-hearted attempts to quell Jane's onslaught, Maura forces out, "Well, you _were_. But when you finally decided you wanted me, you were suddenly _very_ emotionally available and _very_ my type."

Jane stops her onslaught to smack herself unceremoniously on the forehead, "All the wasted air time," she mutters.

[Roll credits]

FIN


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